Seperate Tables
by WinterRepublic
Summary: And at the end of the day, we sit at our separate tables. ONESHOT


_**Disclaimer: **__Oh yes because the Harry Potter Series is full of slash and is located in the adults section. No. I'm not that cool, no._

**Title:** Separate Tables

**Art: **Not at the moment, no.

**Warnings: **SLASH Pairing is up for interpretation. I think that's good enough. But really. You'll never guess who is who because, hell, I don't know either.

**Summary: **And at the end of the day, we sit at our separate tables.

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_x.X.x_

_**And at the slightest hint of being different, you turn your head away from me...Why?**_

_x.X.x_

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Separate tables.

This is how it is day in and day out. They separate us by how we differ, and sit us by how we are alike. I always thought that differences made us closer, like that whole saying 'opposites attract' and all. Was that just a fluke? Do they really attract, or does that just work for magnets? I could hate the ones that sit at my table. I could despise them, but I'm just like them. We could be thinking the same thing you and I: That we have no other choice.

And perhaps we don't.

I could feel him staring at me again. Out of all the obnoxious chatter, I could always pinpoint that sweet sultry voice that always seems to send me straight over the edge. He may be talking to his friends, but his eyes never leave me; Like trying to convey a message without his lips to guide me to understanding.

I leave.

I know he follows me when the footsteps fall into rhythm with mine. The childish chatter is left behind as we stroll further into the depths of the castle. Where we are going? That, I'll never know. We just get there. It always seems like a different place each time anyway. This time it was the room.

_Our_ room.

The door clicks shut behind us. There is a table in the center of the room, but no chairs. One table and no chairs. The table was on a very ornate rug and sat close to the floor. Dust covered every part of the room, but not here. Not in our spot. I sat down. Even without looking, I knew you had sat down next to me. I don't know how, but I could feel you there. I could feel you as easily as I breathe air into my lungs.

We ate in silence.

About halfway through, I could feel your hand on my thigh. I turn my head and meet your lips. Our breathing quickens as we lay out flat next to the table. There are no houses here—there are no boundaries to cross. There is no right or wrong in this room. This is a place where no one can see. No one can see us break the invisible layers over the Great Hall. Your hand grasps around my erection.

Somehow, it always ends up like this.

My legs are spread wide and you lay between them. Moans pour from my gasping throat as you defined stomach and thighs meet mine. I am beneath you. Always, I am beneath you. I can feel your fingers slip into my body—preparing me for something else to come. It feels so full, like you are trying to touch every wall of my insides and more. And if I just imagine, I could feel you doing just that. If I just imagine, it'll never be quick.

You thrust. Your hand keeping rhythm with your cock.

If I think about it, I can feel you—every vein, line and muscle. It feels magnificent. I feel like I'm floating, perhaps halfway in and out of water. My breaths are coming in gasps, and I try harder and harder to hold them as the pressure builds in my chest—coils in my belly. It all ends in an explosion of white. Lights dance in my vision and your release warms my lower belly. Even though I have not eaten much…I feel full.

I want to curl up and hold you there forever.

When it's over we know we must go back out in public. We must put back on our public faces and shout lies to one another just to get through the day. We do this to hear one another's voice—to know the other is still there. I smooth out the wrinkles in my robes and you run your fingers through your hair. It is over. And we must face the world.

And we must face the world again.

It is the end of the day…whatever that means…and we go and sit with our friends. And we pretend. We pretend that we aren't sitting where we are right now.

Separate tables.

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_x.X.x_

_**Do you dream of touching me? Or do you dream of more? Look at me.**_

_x.X.x_

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**A/N:**

A small reprieve from writing _Concrete Angel._ I got about 1/3 of the chapter done. I might just post what I have for now because what I have planned for afterward might take up a chapter in itself. Uhg, not to mention if you have an LJ, you know I've already signed up for the art exchange and it's due on the 31st. And between you and me, I only have a little more than half the gift done. If you've been there when I posted, you'll know it was a short video I was doing. I really don't want to change it at the last minuit, but I might have to._  
_


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